Turnabout Hero: Investigations
by three-days-late
Summary: While Phoenix Wright is conducting his investigation into the recent murder, Miles Edgeworth conducts his own into the defendant. With a little help from his new partner, whether he likes it or not, can he get to the bottom of this mystery?
1. Chapter 1

**So if anyone remembers or at this point cares, a year and a half ago the last time I updated _Turnabout Hero_ , I said there was going to be a surprise. This is that surprise, and no, it's probably not worth the wait, and yes, I will go back to updating _Turnabout Hero_ once this is done at the not-really-regular but at least it's less than a year pace you've come to know and grudgingly accept. **

**First things first, what is this? This is a _Turnabout Hero_ side-story starring Miles Edgeworth and Im Yong Soo. It's mostly a chance to see what Edgeworth has been up to the whole time and add a few more Hetalia characters that don't quite make the main story.**

 **Why did this take a year and a half to finish? I originally wrote this several years ago, before the first Investigations game hit the US, which is why it doesn't have that 'just like the game script' feel the main story has. Now that I'm going back and editing everything, I figured I could tweak it so that this was more like the Investigations games. That got out of control really fast, and I tried squeezing in more AAI characters like Kay and Lang, which resulted in pushing the Hetalia characters to the side more and more, and it was, overall, a giant mess. So I scrapped the whole thing and started over with just editing what I had originally wrote, because if it ain't broken, why am I fixing it?**

 **Anyway, enough excuses. There will be a second part to this, it will not take a year to post it. If we're lucky it'll be up by the end of the week and I can go back to the main story which is why you are all here in the first place.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

" _Mr. Edgeworth, did you hear about that Jones case in DC? They still don't have a prosecutor yet, and if this keeps up he might walk. I mean, he doesn't have a defense attorney yet either, but still, you think you could do it?"_

That was what they told me beforehand, and it was enough to intrigue me into checking out Jones' case.

In Washington the local prosecutors wanted me to meet with Jones to see if I actually thought he _was_ guilty, despite all of the evidence pointing in that direction. His gun as the murder weapon, his jacket covered in the victim's blood, he was even arrested at the crime scene moments after it happened. It was an open and shut case if I ever saw one, and any personal feelings I would acquire after meeting him would not change those facts.

After meeting with Jones all I could think was, " _This man is innocent,_ " and that puzzled me. Why did I feel so strongly about that when all the evidence pointed to the contrary?

The local prosecutors, when asked about it, merely smirked in a condescending and childish, 'I know something you don't know,' manner, and said that if I really wanted to know, why didn't I just ask Alfred myself?

Thus started one of the most insane investigations I ever conducted.

* * *

 **March 16, 9:00 AM. Detention Center.**

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Jones looked surprised when he was brought out to see me, "What are you doing here? You didn't decide to take my case after all, did you?"

"No, I called a good friend of mine in Germany who seemed most enthusiastic about seeing you tossed in jail. She should have landed about an hour ago."

"Really? You honest to God got me a prosecutor?" His smile could probably have powered the entire block if such things were possible, "Thank you!"

"It's the least I can do seeing as I'm… incapable of prosecuting you myself."

"You make it seem like believing I didn't do it is some kind of disease."

"For a prosecutor it may as well be."

He looked shocked, which quickly morphed into pity. "You must have had a rough childhood. I suppose that's 'cause you spent most of it in Germany, but still, it's not _that_ bad a place."

(My childhood was fine considering, thank you very much! It might not have been the best, but, wait…)

"How did you know about that?"

"Hm? Oh, I just know stuff."

"Specifically pertaining to me?"

"You're a prosecutor. If you're going into that line of work, your life's going to be an open book."

"My personal files and records are _not_ available to the public eye."

"Well, I'm not the public, am I?"

(It's probably just a fluke; me being raised by von Karma isn't a secret after all.) "What else do you know?"

"That's a loaded question," he laughed, "Everything I know could fill _libraries_."

"About me, I mean."

"You're name is Miles Edgeworth," he stated, "You're 5 foot 10, have grey eyes and black hair, and were born in 1992."

(Because you couldn't get most of that by just _looking_ at me…)

"You became a prosecutor at 19, and maintained a perfect win record amidst accusations of forged evidence and fraud until you met up with Phoenix Wright in court in 2016."

(Better, but most of that is still common knowledge. You're going to have to do better than that.)

"Your father was Gregory Edgeworth, and he was a defense attorney, a really good defense attorney. He managed to put a mark on Manfred von Karma's record, but he was killed by him shortly after, in an elevator that was down due to an earthquake. Yani Yogi was arrested for the murder after some, um, spirit medium accused him or something –Arthur tried to explain it to me but, uh, whatever. Yani got off."

(Impressive, but most of that is still on the public record.)

"You developed a fear of earthquakes and elevators and retained the nightmare that you accidently shot your own father for quite some time, but Mr. Wright cleared all that up. Well, not the fear of earthquakes thing, but you can't really do much about phobias like that. You and Mr. Wright were childhood friends though, right? You helped him out in a class trial when he was accused of stealing your lunch money."

"You're getting boarder-line invasive right there." (I don't think most of that is even _on_ my private record. How does he know?)

"Sorry," he shrugged, still smiling, "but you asked."

"Where did you get all that information? And why did you feel it necessary to do such an extensive background check on me? "

"Oh, I have my ways," he smirked and looked away, "I suppose you could say it's part of my nature, to know things about people, especially Americans."

(I suppose it's because he works for the government, although most of that _shouldn't_ be privy to just any government employee.) "Mr. Jones what position do you hold in the government? The file I received from the prosecutor's office here was quite vague."

"Huh, well," he tapped the table in front of him; "I suppose you can say that's because my position in the government is quite vague."

"What branch do you work for? How high up are you? Can you at least answer that?"

"Yes and pretty damn high."

His attitude was starting to frustrate me, "The first question wasn't a yes or no question, and your second answer isn't a real answer."

"Sorry, I can't really tell you much more than that," he winked, "trade secret."

(If you think being purposefully vague will dissuade me from this line of questioning you are sorely mistaken.) "Now you've just gotten me curious."

"Do you want to figure it out?" his eyes lit up and his smile grew even brighter, "A lot of people have tried, and most of them have failed."

(Please, I'm Miles Edgeworth. I'll have this 'secret' figured out in a matter of hours. I just need to make a few calls.) "I'm not most people, Mr. Jones."

"Haha! I guess not. If you want to take a crack at it, I'm not going to stop you. I'd love to help you a bit, but I'm kind of stuck here."

"I doubt I'll need your help, but thanks for the offer."

"Aw, helping's the best part," he pouted, "At least let me give you a hint."

(Stop looking into his eyes! They're not that blue, stop caving to him!) "Fine, what's your hint?"

"Well, I've seen your file; it's only fair you see mine."

"I already have-"

"I mean my _real_ file, not the one the prosecutors have for show. My file can be very revealing, if you know what I mean."

(I don't actually.) "Thank you for that, I suppose, but I'll be doing this investigation my way if you don't mind."

Jones shrugged, "Hey, do what you want. If you get stuck you know where to find me. Oh, and just a heads up, some of the others won't want you to succeed. There are a lot of them in the city right now and not all of them play fair, so watch your back."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I doubt I'll be coming back without an answer. Good day, Mr. Jones."

"See ya around, Edgey."

"Never call me that again."

(I have a new mystery to solve: Who exactly is Alfred F. Jones?)

* * *

 **March 16, 10:00 AM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel.**

My contacts, as it turned out, proved to be next to useless. If I was going to investigate Jones I was better off talking to his colleagues. Unfortunately that was proving rather difficult.

"What do you mean I'm not allowed on the premises?"

"S-sorry for the inconvenience, Sir," the bellboy stuttered as he refused to budge from the entrance, "but the hotel is currently full for the time being."

"I'm not here for a room. I just need to talk to a few of the patrons and have a look around."

"Ah, you c-can't do that Sir. The hotel is-"

"It shouldn't _matter_ if the hotel is full! I'm a prosecutor and I need to enter on official case related matters!"

"Sorry Sir, but our guests have, um, _requested_ that only authorized personnel be allowed inside the hotel at this time. Trust me when I say it's for your own protection."

" _I_ will decide if I need protection or not," I shoved past him and was about to enter the hotel just as three men, one short with long, black hair, one large with blond hair and cold eyes, and one tall with black hair and an obnoxious curl with what on first glance appeared to be a face inside walked out.

Upon noticing me, the three of them stopped, "Roderich?" the large one asked, confused.

"We just passed Roderich inside, aru," the short man reminded him, "Besides he's not wearing glasses. And he doesn't have a mole. And there's no Mariazell."

"So Roderich is in disguise and has transportation powers," the other man concluded.

"There's no such thing, aru!"

"Korea has already invented such a thing!" he laughed.

"So that's what happened…" the large man smiled.

"That's not what happened!" the short man snapped and glared at the bellboy, " _Somebody_ failed to keep him off the premises is all."

"My name is Miles Edgeworth," I said, mostly so they would stop bickering about my identity, "and I'm looking into the Jones case."

"Edgeworth?" the short man looked at me curiously, "As in, _Prosecutor_ Miles Edgeworth?"

"I thought the nice German lady was the prosecutor," the large one said.

"Nice?" both his companions questioned.

(Looks like Franziska's already here, but…) "Why was she allowed inside when I am not?"

"Mr. Wiellschmidt was accompanying her, and he said it was cool," the bellboy answered with shrug.

(Wiellschmidt? Surely he doesn't mean, G-Gilbert Wiellschmidt?! I never thought I'd hear his name again… I suppose can always start my investigation elsewhere, seeing as I can't get in the hotel.)

"I see. I'm sorry to have troubled you," just as I turned to leave, a large hand grabbed my shoulder.

"You said you were looking into Alfred's case, yes?" the large man asked, "Why is that?"

" _That_ is not any of your concern," the grip tightened, painfully, as its owner still gave an icy smiled, and I struggled to escape it and leave.

"Ivan," the short man scolded, "now's not the time for that, aru," Ivan let go. I subtly rolled my shoulder as he continued, "Forgive our rudeness. My name is Wang Yao, the representative from China. This is Ivan Braginski from Russia, and-"

"I'm Im Yong Soo from South Korea!" he grabbed my hand and shook it with more enthusiasm than I was expecting, "Nice to meet you!"

"Pleasure," I retracted my hand, "now if you excuse me-"

"Hold it!" Yao darted out in front of me to stop my movements, "Now that the pleasantries are done, why are you looking into a case you're not prosecuting, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"I don't see how-"

"It is our business," Ivan smiled, and I felt shivers run down my spine, "trust us."

"I am simply looking into Mr. Jones's background. That is all."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, so unless you have the time to fill me in on certain matters-"

"Alfred is an American," Ivan answered, "he works for the government. He likes hamburgers and playing the hero, and sometimes it is fun to imagine him losing, defeated, and begging for his life…" a dark aura seemed to surround the area.

(Back…away…slowly…)

"Ivan!" Yao barked, "You're on good terms now, aru!"

"Right, sorry. Old habits die hard."

"Other than that, can you tell me anything about his background? Such as where did he come from or about his family?" (Or what exactly he does and why he's so important?)

"He's from America isn't he?" Yong Soo said, "And he has a brother, Matthew Williams, but he's from Canada."

"Where in America?"

"It's all America, does it really matter?" he waved before pulling out his phone and focusing on that instead.

"Well, was he born here in DC? Where did he go to school? Why is his brother Canadian?"

"He was born in, um," Ivan looked up, thinking, "I am not so familiar with your American cities…the one with the cheese stake, and the broken bell."

"Philadelphia?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Does he still have family there?"

"His only family is, um, his brother." Yao said, "Wait, does Arthur still count?"

"Not anymore," Ivan said, "That's what the whole 'Independence' thing was about."

"Then just the bother."

"Where are their parents?"

"Who knows?" Ivan shrugged, "Does it really matter in the end?"

(I suppose not.) "Can you tell me what exactly it is Mr. Jones does for the government? He was pretty vague on the matter."

"You ask an awful lot of questions, Mr. Edgeworth. I'd be careful about where I direct them if I were you," Yao grabbed the Ivan's arm and started dragging him away, "We'd love to stay and chat, but we have an appointment to keep."

"But what about-"

"Maybe next time!" he shouted.

(Well that wasn't much help. Perhaps I should try talking to his brother?)

"Eh? Did Yao leave without me?" Yong Soo looked around, confused, as he put away his phone, "He's always playing hard to get like this," he sighed and turned to me, "If that's how he wants to be, I think I'll just help you out instead."

"I don't need help," I said as I tried to enter the hotel.

"Sorry Sir," the bellboy stopped me once more, "but I've told you, you can't enter the hotel at this time."

"And I've told _you_ -"

"It's cool," Yong Soo but in, "he's with me."

"Oh, well if that's the case, then by all means," he finally stood aside to let us in.

"So, I'll be helping you," he decided once we were in the lobby, "You can call me Big Bro if you want."

"I will be doing no such thing. I thank you for your assistance getting into the hotel, but from here on out I'll be conducting this investigation solo."

"You're looking into Alfred right? He and I are actually pretty tight, for the most part. He helped me out a while ago, and I'm actually really good friends with his brother. Besides, the art of investigation originated in Korea, so it only makes sense that I become your partner!"

(There does seem to be some sort of conspiracy or cover up going on in this group. Perhaps having one of them on my side will be to my benefit, for now anyway.)

"Very well, you may assist me if you want."

"Awesome! We'll be just like a TV crime-fighting duo! But we need team name," he tapped his chin as he thought about it for a bit, "How about: ImWorth Investigation Squad?"

"What? No, we will not have a team name. Ever," I couldn't change the subject fast enough, "You said you knew Jones's brother; where is he?"

"Probably by the pool area," I walked off in the direction Yong Soo pointed as he followed in my wake, "We can call it IWIS for short!"

"We are not an official team; you are merely assisting me for this one case, which isn't even a real case. Therefore, we do not need a team name."

We arrived at the pool area to find two blond men and a polar bear lounging around near the deep end. At least, one was lounging. The one wearing glasses was sitting on the edge with his feet in the pool while the polar bear swam around.

(Th-that's a real polar bear! Is that legal?)

Both men ended whatever conversation they were having and looked up at us when we entered.

"You are Miles Edgeworth, the prosecutor, _non_?" the lounging man asked.

"Yes, I am. I'm looking for a Matthew Williams?"

"Oh, that's me," the other one said, "What do you want with me?"

"I need to ask you a few questions about your brother."

"UN INSTANT!" the Frenchman shouted, the echoes causing everyone, even the polar bear, to freeze, "I've already met the prosecutor for Alfred's case, and she is not you. What do you need to know about Alfred for?"

"To be honest, Mr.…?"

"Bonnefoy. Francis Bonnefoy, if you don't mind."

"Well, Mr. Bonnefoy, I will admit this is mostly for my own personal reasons. I find certain inconsistencies about Mr. Jones to be intriguing enough to look into, I suppose. I wish to find out more about him, and if what I find out turns out to be a benefit to the defense's case, I will be more than happy to share."

"How strange," Francis gave me smirk that made me slightly uncomfortable before leaning back in his chair, "I would assume, being a fellow prosecutor, you would be more concerned with helping Ms. Von Karma's case."

(…)

"I suppose," he continued, "Alfred is rather interesting. If you feel the need to look into the matter, then look away! I won't stop you, but I won't help you either."

"Very well," (I didn't ask for your help), "Matthew, I would like to ask you a few questions about your brother."

"Ah, well, sure," he got up from his spot by the pool, grabbed a towel, and walked over to one of the secluded tables, away from Francis and Yong Soo. Naturally, I followed.

"So, Mr. Williams, what can you tell me about your brother?"

"Well, that depends. What do you want to know?"

"For starters, what exactly does your brother do for the government? So far no one's been able to give me a clear answer."

"That's because it's a bit, complicated. What it is exactly we do, that is."

(You've got to be kidding me! The last thing I need from you is more vague answers!)

"Please stop glaring at me."

"Can you _try_ to explain it? Or at least give me a title to work with?"

Matt twiddled his fingers instead. "When I say complicated, that's a nice way to say it's a bit, ah, classified."

(Of course it is. I get the sinking feeling that word is going to be popping up quite a lot over the course of this investigation.) "Your brother mentioned a file that I could find. Do you happen to know where it is?"

"He mentioned it?" I nodded and he glanced around the room as if to make sure no one was watching us, "I, may know where to locate it."

(Finally some progress.) "Where is it?"

"I can show you, I suppose," he hesitated, "Did Alfred really say it was okay?"

"Yes, he did." (Is all this secrecy really necessary?)

"Alright," he grabbed a towel as he stood up. "I've got to change, but meet me in the lobby and I'll take you there."

* * *

 **March 16, 10:30 AM. Pennsylvania Avenue.**

Matthew took me to a location near the White House and had me wait in an alley around back while he went to talk to some of his contacts. It was a little unnerving and more than highly suspicious, to say the least.

(At least I managed to ditch that other one at the pool,)

"Hey, Miles!" Yong Soo shouted as he clapped me on the back, "I almost lost you there. You really should tell your partner when you're leaving, you know."

"We're not partners. I do not need to tell you anything because your services are not required."

"So cold, Miles, but how are you supposed to run an IWIS investigation without me?"

"Stop using that ridiculous name!"

"So," he said, ignoring my last statement, "Did Matt find the file yet?"

"He says its amongst the secure files in one of the files in one of the libraries," I tapped my fingers against my arm and glanced back at the White House, "He's going to get it now," and no sooner had I spoken, Matthew returned empty handed and shook his head, "Well, where is it?"

"They're doing a spontaneous random file move for some reason," he frowned and stared hard at the ground, contemplating something, "Alfred's file is part of that."

"You seem suspicious."

"Yeah," he looked back up at me, "that file doesn't move without Alfred's permission. Or at least, without someone with his level of security clearance, and not many people have that."

(It seems someone doesn't want me to find that file.) "Who has the power to move that?"

He bit his lip and looked away, "Well, all of us do."

"All of you? You mean everyone staying at the hotel right now?" (These mysterious people with their mysterious meeting keep getting more mysterious.)

"Yup!" Yong Soo responded, "We all have the same level of access, although Alfred's command should supersede everyone else's, this being America and him being an American and all that."

"That's true," Matthew nodded, "but honestly, anyone of us could have allowed them to move the file."

(I don't have time to worry out who's trying to sabotage me; all I can do for the moment is counter the saboteur's moves as best I can with the resources I have access to. If they become a real problem I can deal with it then, but right now…) "Where is the file being moved too?"

"It might still be on the truck, if you want to take a look in there."

I couldn't think of a better course of action, so Matthew led us to a large sixteen wheel truck, half full of files already.

(These could take days to sort through by hand.) "…You don't happen to know exactly which one it is, do you?"

"No," he sighed, "sorry."

"Well, where not going to get anywhere standing here staring at them. Let's split up and look for it," Yong Soo grinned before he jumped into the truck and started digging through the files, "With three sets of hands we should be able to find it."

"Wait, you could be making it worse!" Matthew and I followed his lead.

What came next were several long hours of digging through file after file in the dim light of the truck. Most of the files were outdated forms and tax papers dating back to the 1950s, occasionally one of us would find an important correspondence from an important person about an important event; however none of us were having any luck locating the file of an Alfred Jones. Just as we were considering picking up our search in another location, the back door of the truck was slammed shut.

"I didn't do it," Yong Soo said.

"You were the one closest to the door," I snapped. I was getting uncomfortable in the dark, confined space, "Who else could it be?"

"Maybe someone on the outside?" Matthew suggested from somewhere on my left.

"Yong Soo, did you see anyone?"

There was no response.

"Yong Soo!"

"Huh? Did you say something, Miles?"

"Did you see anyone before the door shut?" I barked.

"Uh, no, not really."

"Can you open the door?" Matt asked.

The sound of papers shuffling filled the quiet space, followed by grunts, creaks, and metal scraping against metal, but to no avail ,"No," he said at last, "it's sealed pretty tight."

"Great," I muttered. (This couldn't possible get any worse.)

Then the truck started moving.

"Maple!" Matt shouted as we tumbled to the ground. Yong Soo might have shouted something as well as he fell down, but I was beyond listening to anything at that point.

(It's not an earthquake) I could already feel my breath coming in gasps as I reached out for something to grab and came up with only papers, (we're on the East Coast, so it can't _possibly_ be an earthquake. There's plenty of air)I started feeling cold and light headed and grabbed at something warm, (I'm just in the back of a truck that's moving. It's _not_ the earth that's shaking. It's just the truck…)

Despite my best efforts, I don't remember much after that.

The truck must have come to a stop at some point, and the door was open.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth?!" I looked towards the bright light to see that Detective Gumshoe was the one that had opened the door. "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" he asked as he jumped on the truck.

(…)

"Mr. Edgeworth?" I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"D-Detective Gumshoe?"

"Are you okay, Mr. Edgeworth?"

I nodded, still shaken, but functional, "Yes, I'm alright."

"Okay, good," he let go of my shoulder, "Got a call from someone pretty high up to find this truck. You're lucky everyone else is busy with the Jones case, or you could be in some serious trouble," he laughed as he and Yong Soo got out of the truck.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Matthew asked, voice barely above a whisper, "Do you mind letting go of my arm? You're starting to cut off the circulation and it's becoming hard to feel it."

I wasn't sure when I had grabbed onto him, but I immediately apologized and let go as I stood up to brush myself off. Matthew simply muttered his thanks and massaged his sore arm as we exited the truck.

* * *

 **March 16, 1:45 PM. Capitol Complex.**

"You did _what_ with Mr. Edgeworth?" Gumshoe asked. Yong Soo grinned and once again retold the epic tale of how we got stuck on a truck all day.

Matthew said he had to go back to the hotel, and I had no reason to doubt him on that. Before he left, he told me that a copy of his brother's file might have been in the House or Senate records for safe keeping, thus our current location.

Yong Soo had opted to recount, in detail, our expedition so far to Detective Gumshoe, who had decided to 'help' me as well.

"And that's the first case of the ImWorth Investigation Squad!"

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe actually looked hurt, "If you needed an investigation partner, why didn't you just ask me?"

"I didn't know you were here," I replied, "and I don't need a partner. I don't _want_ a partner. You," I pointed at Yong Soo, "can stop saying otherwise."

"Excuse me?" the three of us turned to see one of the clerks giving us a strange look. "Can I help you?" she asked in a tone that made it clear she didn't want to help us at all.

"Forgive us for intruding," I said, "I'm Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and these are my, assistants. We are looking for the file of Alfred F. Jones. Do you happen to know where it is?"

"Al doesn't work here," she said bluntly, "and even if he did, his file isn't for the public eye, Mr. Prosecutor."

"Have I introduced my assistants? This is Detective Gumshoe, he works for the police department," the look she gave me told me that was getting me nowhere, "and this is Im Yong Soo, from South Korea."

"Hi," she still wasn't impressed.

"Yong Soo, don't you need to see Mr. Jones's file?"

"Right," he dug through his jeans pocket and pulled out identification of some kind, "Is it alright if I see Alfred's file? For official business, of course."

She looked at the card with interest before handing it back to him, "I'll see what I can do for you, Mr. Im Yong Soo," she said before walking away at a quick pace.

"See?" Yong Soo turned to face Gumshoe, "I told you me and Edgey could handle this."

"That's not fair," the Detective honest to God pouted, "I've helped Mr. Edgeworth out plenty of times on past cases! Isn't that right Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Yes, sure, why not?" This argument didn't really interest me. I was too busy pondering why Yong Soo was allowed such access when both Gumshoe and I, despite our professions in criminal justice, were denied.

It had to that "thing," that thing that made me believe Alfred's innocence no matter the facts. Whatever it was, Yong Soo had it too. Matthew must have as well. After all, he did get us access to those files without a fight. Could it be possible that everyone staying at that hotel, those 'special representatives,' all had it? That couldn't be right, as there was something about Alfred that that drew me in during our first meeting that I had yet to see in any of the others.

"I'm sorry Mr. Im Yong Soo," the clerk said upon returning, bringing me out of my thoughts, "but I wasn't able to locate Mr. Jones's file here."

"So, it is here?" I asked.

She glared at me. "It _was_ here. It's _supposed_ to be here, but it seems we've misplaced our copy."

"How often do you misplace important files?" Gumshoe asked, "I don't think you'd be able to get anything done like that."

"We _don't_ misplace important files. Mr. Jones's file is not that important. We only store here just in case."

"In case of what?" I asked.

"Just in case," she repeated before turning back to Yong Soo, "if you need it that bad, you could always check with the Supreme Court records and see if it's still there."

"Okay, we'll try that next," he smiled at her, "Thanks for your help!"

She smiled and led us out of the building, where Yao was standing.

"Brother!" Yong Soo shouted as he lunged forward and hugged him.

"Yong Soo, so you've been with Mr. Edgeworth all day, aru?"

"Yeah! We've been investigating!"

"Fantastic. Have you had any luck with your 'investigations' so far, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Not as much as I would like," I said.

"Well, I hope you have better luck locating Alfred's file, aru. I need to get going," his smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he disentangled himself from Yong Soo and left with a wave.

"Wait a minute," Gumshoe said, "How did he know we were looking for Jones's file?"

"I would like to know that as well," I pondered. The whole encounter gave me an uneasy feeling, "but it is of no real consequence at this time. We should keep going. Yong Soo, are you coming?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm right behind you Edgey."

"Don't call me that."

* * *

 **March 16, 2:20 PM. Supreme Court Records Room.**

"Um…no, I don't see it," the secretary Yong Soo found to escort us to the classified files section said after a while, "It seems that file has been moved…"

(You've got to be kidding me! All the copies of this thing have been moved? This cannot possibly be a coincidence…someone clearly doesn't want me to know something.)

"Ah, is that so…" Yong Soo sighed before slinging an arm around my shoulder, "what're we going to do now?"

"We can hit the streets!" Gumshoe suggested as he pushed Yong Soo away to sling his arm around me instead, "find some witnesses! Someone has to know something about these missing files, pal!"

"You don't know that someone stole the files!"

"Then what else to you think is going on?"

"Things get lost! No need to accuse anyone of anything!"

"All the files were lost? That's a mighty big coincidence."

"We have to find the missing files! Not waste time talking to people about things. This is why you'll never be a part of Edgey and mine's team."

"What was that?! Mr. Edgeworth and I have been investigating crimes together before you could even walk!"

"Psh, crime fighting originated in Korea. It only makes sense that I'm better at it then you."

"What was that, pal?!" Gumshoe had let me go by this point, so I decided to search more of the files in the room in case the secretary, who had left as soon as the shouting started, missed something. She hadn't, unfortunately.

"'This came from Korea,' 'that came from Korea,'" Gumshoe was still shouting, "So what?! You ain't Korea, so why bother name dropping pal?!"

"No, I'm South Korea! Get it right!"

"Yeah, well, if you're South Korea, I'm the good ol' US of A!"

"No you're not! He's in jail!"

"Enough!" I shouted, "This is getting ridiculous! If both of you feel the need to help me that's fine, but claiming to be personified countries isn't doing anyone any good!"

They both had the sense to look a bit sheepish, though Yong Soo seemed a bit worried for some reason, as if I was actually going to attack him.

"Sorry Mr. Edgeworth. I guess I got a little carried away?"

"It's fine, Detective. Just don't let it happen again."

"So," Yong Soo muttered, "What do we do now?"

(If only I knew…Alfred and Matthew both insist that the file is the key to solving this…thing about Alfred, but it's missing. Someone doesn't want me to find it, but is it just because they don't want me to find out about Alfred, or because there's something else in that file about them?)

"We know it's not here," I said, "so we no longer have a purpose here. Let's try someplace else."

They nodded and followed me outside where we ran into, of all the people in the city, Ivan.

"Oh, hello Miles, Yong Soo, strange man," he greeted with his child-like smile, "How are you?"

"Fine," it was then I noticed that he had a file in his hands, "What is that you're holding?"

"Oh this?" he held it up, and I could make out Alfred's picture clipped on the front, "This is none of your concern, Miles Edgeworth. Pay it no mind."

"I think I can decide if it is any of my concern, Mr. Ivan Braginski, if you don't mind."

"Oh, but I _do_ mind. I mind very much, actually."

Yong Soo launched himself forward and tackled Ivan. They both fell to the ground, causing the file to go flying until it hit Gumshoe's head. In an impressive feat of dexterity that I assumed was beyond him, he managed to catch it. Before Ivan could get up, he opened the file and started reading.

" _Name: Alfred Franklin Jones. Age: 19. Full name-_ " He was cut off when a wok hit him over the head, making him drop the file. It was caught in the very same wok by Yao.

"I thought you would burn this as soon as you got it, aru." He said to Ivan.

"I was going to," Ivan disentangled himself from Yong Soo and stood up, "But they got here faster than I thought they would."

"Is that so?" Yao placed the file in his wok, pulled out a match, and set it on fire.

"What are you doing?!" Gumshoe and I shouted.

"Destroying this. It shouldn't exist," he answered, "I don't know what exactly you are looking for, Mr. Edgeworth, but if you continue your investigations, Ivan and I will stop you at every turn, aru. Count on it." The two of them turned to walk away, but not before Yao stopped and looked over his shoulder.

"Are you coming?" he asked Yong Soo, who was still on the ground. Yong Soo shook his head and made no move to stand. Yao shook his head, turned on the spot, and left with Ivan without another glance back.

"They can't just do that!" Gumshoe shouted in indignation, "I'll handle this pal, don't worry. I'll head back to the precinct right now and find something to get them for, count on it!" With that, he ran off as well.

"Sorry, Edgey," Yong Soo said, so soft I almost didn't hear it. He was still on the ground, hadn't moved since Yao showed up, "I, guess I'm not a very good investigation partner after all."

"You tried to get the file for us. I don't blame you for losing it."

He shook his head, "No, I knew Yao and Ivan were the ones trying to stop us. I saw Yao lock us in the truck and I know they don't want you to find out anything, but I didn't tell you," he looked away, "I'm sorry."

"So, you know what it is I'm trying to find out?" A nod, "Can you tell me? It would save me a lot of time," a head shake this time, "Why not?"

"Because, you're not mine."

(And what on earth is that supposed to mean.) "Explain what you mean."

"You're American, not Korean, and Alfred, well, he likes his games. I can't interfere with that until you find out for yourself. That's why I wanted to help you, but…"

"Don't worry about it. We can still find it," he looked up at that and I offered him a hand up, "I still have contacts I can call upon tonight. We'll locate this file and solve this mystery. No matter how much Yao or Ivan want to stop us, we'll find the truth."

Yong Soo perked up at that and grabbed my hand. "Yeah, you're right! And I can help right?"

"If you want to."

(It seems I may have stumbled across something bigger then I had originally set out to.)

 _To Be Continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Well that took a lot longer then I thought it would, but look! It's done! Now I can continue updating the original story at the breakneck pace you all know and tolerate. I am determined to actually finish Turnabout Hero once and for all, so expect an update on that soon. Soonish. Sooner than you got this update.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 **March 17, 9:50 AM. Defendant Lobby No. 3.**

I had realized Matthew only knew where the copies of the Jones file were, and that is what Yao had burned, a copy. The _real_ file had to exist somewhere, but all my contacts were just as baffled as I was as to where such a thing could exist, if it existed at all. By the next morning I was no further in my investigations then I had been when I first started.

The next step was clearly the first; I needed to talk to Alfred again.

"Good morning Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya called out to me as I entered the defendant's lobby. I paid her no mind however, as all my focus was currently on Alfred Jones.

"Hello Edgey!" he greeted, smile still plastered on his face.

"Can you stop glaring at my client like that?" I heard Wright say, "He's nervous enough as it is."

"No, I'm good!"

"You," I finally said, "Why can't I find a file on you?"

"I dunno," he smiled, as if this was all a game to him, and it most likely was, "I guess you're just not looking hard enough."

"I've checked with all my contacts in all three branches for every position available _including_ the one's you clearly weren't like Senator, Justice, and President, and I could not find a file in any database for Alfred F. Jones. Why?"

"Clearly you just weren't-"

"I was looking hard enough!" I hissed, "Why don't you exist, Mr. Jones?"

"Of course I exist, don't be ridiculous!" he smirked that infuriating all knowing smirk, "I can't be standing in front of you right now if I wasn't, and everyone in Washington has a file. How far back did you look?"

"All the way to 2000. Seeing as you're only _19_ , even that's pushing it quite a bit."

"Only to 2000? I'm starting to wonder about your dedication to this task Edgey," his booming laugh echoed in my ears.

(Can't…attack…people…who can help you…no matter how satisfying as it may be. I need to get _information_ out of him instead.) "Don't call me Edgey! And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"No, you're the one who decided to investigate me; you should figure that out for yourself. If I just told you that wouldn't be very fun now would it?"

(Fun? What part of this is fun for you?) I rolled my eyes, "You should get going," I said after noticing the bailiff signaling everyone into the courtroom, "the trial's about to start soon. But I will see _you,"_ I jabbed a finger into Alfred's chest, to make my point perfectly clear, "afterward to talk about this some more, so don't try and run."

"Wasn't planning on it," he winked, and it was equal parts reassuring and infuriating, before entering the courtroom.

I glared after him until I heard Maya ask, "Mr. Edgeworth, what was that all about?"

"Something about Mr. Jones doesn't sit very well with me." I stated, "I can't explain it so I've been looking into him. I went to talk to him about it yesterday, and he knew exactly what I was talking about, but he refused to tell me anything more except that my hunch was correct and that I should find out for myself."

"What hunch is that?" Wright asked.

"Mr. Jones is, different. Special in some way I suppose is more accurate, almost like there's a government conspiracy surrounding him, and he confirmed that there was."

"What?!"

"More accurately, he said that many people have tried, and failed, to find out his 'Secret.' He wouldn't elaborate any more on it than that, but he welcomed me to try."

"That's sorta like what Lovino was saying yesterday," Maya said, "That Alfred was powerful enough to cover everything up…"

"He what?! Who told you that?" (How many people are in on this?)

"Lovino Vargas. He's Alfred's friend from Italy. He's really nice."

(Can I trust him? I wonder…would he side with Ivan and Yao and try to stop me? Would he be like Yong Soo and try to help? Or like Francis and just remain indifferent? Either way, I'm running out of options.) "What exactly did he say?"

"Um, something about Alfred being higher in rank than a Congressman."

(Alfred told me much of the same, although it's a bit better than his vague 'pretty damn high.')

"What's wrong Edgeworth?" Wright's voice snapped me out of my train of thought.

"Nothing. This just complicates things I suppose. At any rate, my investigation is completely independent to yours, so pay it no mind. Your trial is starting soon isn't it?"

(And this is one you really do need to win, Wright.)

* * *

 **March 17, 1:20 PM. Detention Center.**

After the unexpected end to the day's trial, I wasted little time in getting to the Detention Center to talk to Alfred.

"Hi Edgey!" he greeted.

"Don't 'Hi Edgey' me! Why did you send me on this impossible mission?"

"It's not impossible, and didn't you set yourself on it?"

"Quiet you. Why can't I find your file anywhere?"

"Well," he leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, "the thing is, the fact that I have a file is sorta a mistake, so the actual file is probably one of the most guarded documents in DC," he sat up and looked right at me, "Have you tried finding the copies?"

"Your brother showed me where they were yesterday, but they were gone by the time I got there."

"Gone?" this, at least, he looked troubled by, "What do you mean gone?"

"I mean, someone got to them before me." (And burned them in his wok.)

"Oh," with that sound, he seemed to understand everything I left unsaid, "That's problematic, but I did tell you people would try to stop you."

(You did, but you failed mention that was because they were in on this…is conspiracy even the right term at this point?) "That doesn't help me much now, does it?"

"I guess not," he chuckled, "but why are you here? Do you need another hint?"

"I most certainly do not. I am merely here to find out why I can't find your file."

"And I just told you, because it's hard to find."

"Today before the trial, you insinuated that I hadn't looked back far enough in time. Why?"

"Because you hadn't." My glare seemed to have no effect on him, and it was quite frustrating, to say the least.

"You're 19. Even going back to 2000 is even pushing it."

"Well, some people tell me I'm a lot older than I look."

(You look like you're 19. So, is he saying that…?)

"Mr. Jones, how old are you really?"

The grin on his face seemed to suggest that I was on the right track. "How old do I look, Edgeworth?"

"You look like you're 19."

"Then I guess I'm 19."

(Not helping.) "When were you born?"

"July 4th."

"What _year_?"

He smirked in response, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"So you are lying about your age?"

"Kinda. Well, someone certainly is."

"Why lie about your age?"

"I'm young and I work for the government," he shrugged, "do I really need another reason?"

(I suppose not.) "Not that I need a hint, because I don't, but how far back would you suggest I look?"

"Back. My advice, Edgey, is to just keep looking backwards through time until you find it."

(Definitely not helping.) "If that's all, then I will be taking my leave."

"Wait!" I paused and faced him, "Just so you know, to see the actual file you're going to need a bit more clearance than you have right now."

"Well, Yong Soo's been helping me, and we've been getting along fine on his clearance." (Although come to think of it, I haven't seen him all day.)

"Really?" he smiled, "It's great that you're making friends-"

"He's not a friend, just an acquaintance."

"But, I don't remember seeing him at the trial. Is he still helping you?"

(He seemed awfully depressed yesterday…and he is rather fond of Yao, who has made it clear he won't let me at this file. But, he also did say he'd help me. I suppose it's just a matter of whether or not I trust his word.)

"Yes, he's still helping me."

"Awesome," Alfred gave me a thumbs up, "he should have the clearance you need, but just in case he doesn't, don't be afraid to give me a call."

(Give you a call?) "You're in jail right now. How am I supposed to call you?"

"Just call the detention center. They'll know where to find me."

(I should hope so since you're being detained here.) "Very well."

He waved his goodbyes as I left, mulling over everything he did – and didn't – tell me.

I didn't notice Wright and Maya standing there until I almost bumped into them.

"Hello Mr. Edgeworth!" Maya said in greeting, "How's your investigation going?"

"He's taunting me, I just know it," I look back to the building where Alfred is probably still sitting, basking in the knowledge of knowing something I don't, "He doesn't think I'll figure it out," everything he had said had made _that_ abundantly clear, "but Miles Edgeworth doesn't give up so easily Mr. Jones! I'll show _him_ how _real_ prosecutors investigate! We'll see whose laughing then won't we!"

I hadn't realized how caught up in my tirade I had gotten until Wright asked, "Edgeworth? Are you okay?"

"Ah, yes. Sorry about that. My investigation is going fine, how about yours?"

"Just peachy. What did you think of the trial this morning?"

(The trial…right, Alfred's trial…the one that Gilbert interrupted…I wonder, how many of them are actually involved with this case? How many of them has Wright had to associate with, or even will have to associate with?) "You have quite the cast of characters to deal with. I'm glad I'm not prosecuting this one." (Better to let Franziska deal with Gilbert. He always liked her better. Speaking of Gilbert,) "Be careful Wright. Gilbert Wiellschmidt, despite all evidence to the contrary, is a brilliant tactician. I'm not sure what, but he's definitely planning something."

"You know Gilbert too, Mr. Edgeworth?" Maya asked.

"Yes, I did live with the von Karmas in Germany for quite some time. Gilbert stopped by every now and then. He looks and acts pretty much the same as he did back then." (Which is a shame for society as a whole.)

"Well, he's only twenty-five and leeching off his brother," Wright explained, "He's still just having fun with life, I suppose."

"Twenty-five? That's impossible; he was twenty-five when I first met him."

"So, Gilbert lied about his age?" (Just like Alfred did, apparently.)

"Why would he do that?" (This cannot possibly be a coincidence…)

(The Gilbert of my childhood certainly looked twenty-five, and he definitely looked twenty-five today in court. What if he hasn't aged in all those years? Alfred told me he lies about his age, that he's not actually nineteen…what if he doesn't age either? That of course brings the question, why haven't they aged? And does that apply to everyone?)

"Edgeworth?" I heard Wright say, "Hello?"

"Yes I agree," was the first thing I could think of to say after coming out of my previous train of thought.

"It wasn't a yes or no question," he said, but by that time my focus was elsewhere.

"I need to go check on something," I said as I made my exit, "Excuse me."

(Too many questions, and it's about time I had some answers. If Alfred won't talk, then I'll just have to find someone who will.)

* * *

 **March 17, 1:45 PM. Westin Arlington Gateway Hotel Lobby.**

The bellboy that stopped me yesterday had abandoned his post, and I had no trouble getting into the lobby today. A quick look around showed that the only people there were the man at the front desk, who was too busy reading some magazine to pay me much mind, and a man playing the piano.

"Excuse me," I asked the man at the piano, "I'm looking for Gilbert Wiellschmidt. Do you know where he is?"

He ignored me and continued playing. As I was about to get irritated with him for ignoring me, he finished the song and turned to face me.

"Never interrupt Mozart," was the first thing out of his mouth, followed quickly by, "How may I be of assistance?"

"Sorry about that, but do you know where Gilbert Wiellschmidt is?"

"Why?"

"I need to speak with him. Now."

He sized me up for a moment before turning back to the piano and smashing the keys on the lower end.

"What the hell, Specs?!" Gilbert shouted as he popped out of the piano, "I could have gone deaf!"

"Someone is here to see you, and before you yell at me, no, it isn't Franziska. Kindly remove yourself from the piano."

"Who-?" then Gilbert caught sight of me, "Edgey!"

"It's Miles! Miles Edgeworth! Why does everyone insist on using that ridiculous diminutive?"

"It suits you, that's why," he jumped out of the piano and swung an arm around my shoulders, "Specs, we're going to go talk over there," he pointed at a group of chairs on the other side of the lobby, "warn me if Franziska comes back."

"If I can." He turned back to the piano and started up a new song as Gilbert dragged away.

"I haven't seen you in forever, Edgey, oh sorry," Gilbert smirked as he caught my glare, " _Miles_. You really shot up there didn't you? You used to be so tiny, like an awesome bird."

(Good, we can get right to the point.) "And you haven't aged at all, I've noticed."

His smirk grew as he sat down and motioned for me to do the same, "Nothing gets by you does it? I assume you're here to ask me about the secret of my youth?"

"Among other things," I answered as I sat across from him. Gilbert raised an eyebrow before he started chuckling.

"You think Alfred's innocent," he tilted his head back and full out laughed, much to my frustration, "Never thought I'd see the day you actually thought someone was innocent."

"Alfred has a certain something about him, or so I've been told."

"Yeah, that's true," he sighed, "He didn't do it you know."

"Pardon?"

"Alfred. He didn't kill that guy."

(Because of course _you_ would know for sure, unless…)

"Don't give me that look. I didn't kill him either," he sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees, "I don't know who did, but I know it wasn't Alfred."

"How can you be so sure? All of the evidence-"

"Evidence schmevidence," Gilbert waved my concerns off as he leaned back in his chair, "I'm going by feelings here."

"Feelings don't stand up in a court of law."

"You lawyer types and your 'evidence.' Sometimes you just gotta go with your gut," he smirked and shouted across the room, "Specs, do you think Alfred did it?"

"You know very well I do not," came the reply.

"See? Even Roderich agrees with me for once. No way is that kid guilty."

"It's nice that you think that, but-"

"I get it," Gilbert chuckled again as he leaned forward, "You've never been one to just sit there and take the world for what it is. You need to know _why_ you think Al's innocent." He took my silence for a yes and kept talking, "I'd be more than happy to tell you, you know."

I leaned forward as well, "In exchange for, what, exactly?"

Just as he was about to tell me, a whip came out of nowhere and wrapped around his wrist.

"Gilbert Wiellschmidt!" Franziska shouted, "How dare you try to run from me!"

"Gilbert," Roderich shouted belatedly from his piano, "Franziska's here."

"Franziska, Gilbert and I were having a conversation," I said, "Can you wait until we're through to have your way with him?"

"Miles Edgeworth," she smirked, "I didn't think you'd still be in town after you ran from this case with your tail between your legs."

"I merely thought you would like the opportunity to prosecute. If this case is to challenging for you, I can always find someone else."

Her glare was all the answer I needed, not that I'd expected much different. "I'd stay and talk," she tugged Gilbert out of his chair, "but I have a memory to recover. Good day, Miles Edgeworth."

"Ow, wait, Franziska, that's supposed to be attached!" I heard Gilbert shout as he was dragged out of sight.

(Well, that's a shame. Where should I go from here?)

"Mr. Edgeworth!" I voice I knew too well shouted.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth?" Gumshoe asked Roderich, who stopped playing to glare at him.

"Do I look _anything_ like him?"

"Well, except for the mole and the glasses, and the different hair color…"

"Detective," I called out, "I'm over here."

"Oh Mr. Edgeworth!" he ran over to the other side of the lobby where I was seated, "So, remember yesterday when I said I'd look into Ivan and Yao's criminal records?"

"I recall you saying something like that. Am I correct in assuming you found nothing?"

"Yes. I mean no. I mean, not quite."

(Spit it out man!) "It has to be one or the other, Detective. Either you found something or you didn't. Which is it?"

"Well, nothing came up when I went through the department records," he scratched his head, "But one guy let me go through some of the CIA records, and-"

(Wh-what?!) "Y-you had accesses to CIA records?!"

"Technically it was limited access, pal. Some French guy, Bonnefoy I think his name was, down at the precinct let me in somehow."

"Francis Bonnefoy?"

"Yeah, I think that was him. You know him?"

"We've met." (He said he wasn't going to get involved, whether to help or hurt me…what's changed? Is he planning something?)

"Anyway, he let me in, and I was going through some of the files from the 50s and-"

"The fifties? Why so far back?"

"Well, I only had limited access, and those were the limit I had access to, Mr. Edgeworth."

(I don't see how anything that far back could be much help, but Alfred and Gilbert hinted at going back father than I had originally thought.) "What did you find then?"

"I found a file on Ivan," he pulled said filed out of his jacket and placed it on the table for me to look at. I picked it up and started flipping through it, coming across a lot of black and white pictures of Mr. Braginski, some of him with old Soviet Premiers, some of him doing what Cold War era films would have me believe to be espionage work. On the back of some of the pictures were vague notes about his alleged movements at the time.

(What is this?)

"Did you find my brother's file?" a voice over my shoulder asked. Startled, both the Detective and I turned to see Yong Soo looking down at the photos.

"There was a spot for a Wang Yao file, pal," Gumshoe explained, "but it was empty."

"Ah, I meant my real brother. I'm pretty sure Alfred would have a file like this for him somewhere." His eyes grew distant, and I could tell this was something he didn't want to talk about. His family matters were none of my concern, not that I cared.

"Do you know what the purpose of this file is, Yong Soo?"

"Ivan is a, what do you call it, person of interest? Alfred likes to keep tabs on him."

"This file is from the fifties."

"That's when he became interesting."

(What Alfred said, what Gilbert implied, this file, it all indicates I should look farther back for Alfred's file, no matter how ridiculous that seems.)

"Yong Soo, do you know of any place where we could find Mr. Jones's file? Not a copy but the original?"

He sat down on my armrest, much to my discomfort, and thought about it. "Where did you find this one? It might be there."

"I found it in the CIA records, pal. I, uh, I didn't think to look for Jones's while I was there."

(Of course you wouldn't…)

Yong Soo shook his head, "I doubt they'd have it."

"So, I guess we're back to square one?" Gumshoe asked.

(Not if I can help it. Think…there must be _something_ I'm missing…)

Suddenly Yong Soo's cell phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

" _Yong Soo!_ _Bonjour!_ " I heard Francis say.

"It's the afternoon, but okay. What do you need?"

" _Can't I ever just call someone up to say hello anymore?_ "

"Well, you usually don't talk to me unless you need something, so I just assumed."

" _Fair point,_ " a shout of " _If you're going to follow us around, you might as well bloody help frog!_ " could be heard in the background, " _What are your plans for the rest of the day, my friend?_ "

"I'm just investigating with Edgey and Gumshoe. Why?"

Francis clicked his tongue, " _I don't think Yao will like that much._ "

Yong Soo's face turned pink, "Was there a reason you called?"

" _Yes, there is. I was just thinking how today is the perfect day to go to the library, wouldn't you agree?_ "

(Library? Assuming he knows that Yong Soo has been helping me, and I'm sure he does, this may very well be a hint for us. Why does he want us to go to the library?)

"Uh, not really, it's bright and warm and sunny. A library is one of the last places I'd want to be today."

" _Really? Because if I were you, I'd go to the library today._ "

(I honestly doubt a mere library could hold the answers, unless he means-)

A loud crash was heard on Francis's end, followed shortly by, " _Damnit Francis, if you have to be here, the least you can do is catch me when I fall!"_

" _I assumed that was what Kiku was here for,"_ he responded.

" _Kiku is 162 centimeters tall! How is he supposed to catch me when I fall off of Ivan?"_

" _Have you tried maybe not falling?"_

Several British curses and a scuffle were heard after that, followed shortly by the line disconnecting.

"Well that was weird," Yong Soo concluded as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"You're telling me," Gumshoe agreed, "What's with his obsession with libraries pal?"

"You mean you didn't get it?" I smirked.

"Get what?" they both asked.

"I think it's time we paid a visit to the library."

* * *

 **March 17, 2:20 PM. Library of Congress, Thomas Jefferson Building.**

We managed to gain access to the basement room where several classified files were said to have been stored. Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly to me at least, Yao had too.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, none of us had enough clearance to actually get at anything being stored in that room.

"This is ridiculous, aru," Yao complained, "Do you know who I am? Who I work for?"

"What about me?" Yong Soo insisted, "I'm pretty important too!"

"I've got my orders to follow," the old man who brought us down here said, "and you can't get anything in this room, got it?"

"Mr. Edgeworth…" Gumshoe glanced between me and the files beyond the gate.

"Calm down, Detective. If our adventures yesterday are any indication, I doubt we have clearance when these two don't."

"Still, it's kinda strange that they'd let us down here, but not touch anything. I mean, what's the point of seeing a bunch of stuff if we can't even touch it?"

"Misters Wang and Im can look at all they want," the guard stated, "they just can't take anything out. Can't even bring it out of the row they find it in."

"If _we_ can't take things away from here, then just who can?" Yao asked.

"I'm not authorized to release that information to you, Mr. Wang."

(Of course, you've basically told us that there is _someone_ who can take things out of here…

"… _just in case he doesn't, don't be afraid to give me a call."_

Of course, he knew it would come to this didn't he?)

With no other options available, I pulled out my own cell phone and called the Detention Center. Just as he predicted, they had no problems patching me through to Alfred.

" _Hey, Edgey! What's up?_ "

"You knew that we wouldn't be able to get at your file without higher clearance, didn't you?"

" _Maybe. Where are you?_ "

"We're in the Library of Congress basement. The man here won't let us get anywhere near any of the files down here."

" _Good job! You've made it farther than anyone has in a long time!_ " I could practically hear his smile through the phone, " _You should be proud!_ "

"Are you going to help me finish this or aren't you?" I snapped.

" _Sure I will! That's what heroes do. Hand the phone to the guard._ "

I sighed, but did as instructed, "It's for you."

The man gave me a weird look, but cautiously took the phone.

"Who is this?" he snapped into it. His demeanor changed completely once he discovered who it was, "Mr. Jones! I heard you were in jail!… No, everything's good, how are you?… Really? Is that so?… Sorry, I can't let Mr. Edgeworth into the collection without you physically present, no matter how much you insist he's 'one of the good guys'…Mr. Im Yong Soo? Well, I suppose I could let just him take it, what about Mr. Wang Yao?…Alright, if you insist Mr. Jones…I'll tell her you said hello, of course. Good day." He hung the phone up and handed it back to me.

"You," he pointed at Yong Soo, may take Mr. Jones's file to him. _Only_ Mr. Jones's file. Don't even think about taking anything else."

"Of course!" he grinned before running off to explore the labyrinth of shelves filled with papers.

"What about-"

" _Only_ Mr. Im is allowed to take _only_ Mr. Jones's file."

Yong Soo came back from his hunt moments later, file in hand. The guard snatched it from him and flipped through it, making sure that he was indeed taking only the file he was allowed to off the premises. When it passed his inspection he handed the file back, and the four of us left the building.

"Good job getting the file, Yong Soo," Yao said once we were outside, "You can hand that over now, aru."

"Hold it!" Gumshoe shouted, "Yong Soo's on _our_ side, so that's _our_ file, pal!"

"I'm sure you've had fun playing detective," he continued, "but this is serious, aru. I know you claim to be older than dirt, but when it comes down to it, I've been around here before and trust me, it's better for everyone if they don't know."

Yong Soo's face scrunched up as his eyes darted between Yao, the file, and me.

"Mr. Edgeworth!" Gumshoe shouted, "Aren't you going to respond to that?"

(It's hard when I'm not all that sure what they are talking about.) "I may not know exactly what this secret of yours is yet, but I have gotten a feel for the nature of it over these past few days. Mr. Jones trusted us enough to find it out for ourselves, and he trusted Yong Soo enough to bring it to him, however the choice of what to do is ultimately in Yong Soo's hands." (And I have to trust that he'll make the right decision, whatever that may be.)

"Edgeworth is one of the good ones," Yong Soo pleaded, "Alfred and Gilbert trust him, and he won't-"

"You're trusting Alfred and Gilbert's judgment, aru?" Yao rolled his eyes, "Gilbert, whose sole existence now it to cause as much trouble as possible, and Alfred, who is currently being imprisoned by his own people! Have you ever heard that happening before?"

"It's just a mistake," he explained, "If they knew who he was-"

"The only difference is they would probably keep it quiet instead of flaunting it across the media, aru. Alfred's trust in people is what got him into this mess in the first place. _Don't_ make the same mistake he's making."

"Mr. Edgeworth," the Detective whispered, "I don't know why, but I felt pretty insulted by that last statement."

"I did as well."

"Should we say something?"

"I doubt that will help much. Its best if we just let Yao say his piece and hope Yong Soo is still on our side at the end. Getting in the middle of this when we only have a vague notion of what's going on would not work to our advantage."

"Yeah, I was just thinking that," he scratched his head and leaned back as Yong Soo spoke again.

"I, I'm sorry," he looked away from Yao, who raised an eyebrow, "I'm going to have to trust Alfred's judgment on this."

Yao looked shocked, but it quickly morphed into resignation, "If that's what you think, aru, then I won't be able to stop you, will I?" He turned and left, but not before adding, "You'll have to accept the consequences, but I hope you know what you're doing, aru."

Once he was gone, a silence fell over the area.

"So," Gumshoe said, "what was that all about pal?"

"It doesn't matter. Here," he handed me the file, and I wasted no time in opening it, finally reading the contents.

 _ **Name:**_ _Alfred Franklin Jones  
_ _ **Age:**_ _19  
_ _ **Full Name:**_ _United States of America_

"What does this mean?" I pointed out that last line.

"Yeah, I noticed that typo when I had the copy yesterday," Gumshoe admitted, "I thought they could at least get it right on the real thing but I guess not."

"Typo?" (This document seems too important to have that kind of typo.)

"Yeah, I mean, it's not like Jones is actually _America_! That's just not possible. It must mean 'country of origin' or something, 'cause they already have his name on the file and everything."

"But what about his approximate age being 195? That makes even less sense then the name, considering they already have his age down as 19."

"Someone must have accidently hit the 5 key? This was typed up on a typewriter from the looks of it, Mr. Edgeworth, and human error can happen a lot. I should know; it happens to me all the time."

(That would make sense, but it just doesn't…feel right. Again with these feelings! I _need_ some hard evidence!)

Gumshoe's phone rang, interrupting my musings.

"Hello? Yes, what? But…Okay, I'll be right there, pal." He hung up and looked sadly at me. "Sorry Mr. Edgeworth, but I've got to get back to the station."

"That's quite alright. This is an off-the books investigation as is, and I'd hate to keep you from your work. You've done enough already as is."

Detective Gumshoe departed, leaving me all alone with Yong Soo and the mysterious file.

"Those aren't typos are they?"

"Not at all."

"Explain."

He sighed, "I think you should go see Alfred about that."

* * *

 **March 17, 2:45 PM. Detention Center.**

"Explain," I demanded as I held the relevant part of the file up to the glass.

"Oh hey, you did find it!" he grinned like an idiot, "I knew you could do it."

"That doesn't sound like an explanation to me."

"You have all the answers you need right there, what do you want from me?"

"According to this, you're actually the United States of America and you're really 195 years old-"

"Over 243 now, actually. That hasn't been updated in a while."

"That is impossible, Mr. Jones!"

"How so?"

"The United States of America is a _country_. _You_ are a person! You can't be a _country_."

"Of course not, that's just silly," he chuckled, "Didn't you read the file? I'm a _nation_."

I fixed him with my meanest glare.

"Don't give me that look."

"You can't be America. It's impossible."

"Where's your evidence?"

"Pardon?"

"You're a prosecutor, aren't you? So, show me the evidence that says I'm not America."

"I don't need evidence for that. What you're suggesting is not within the realm of possibility. If anything, you should provide evidence to prove you are America."

He tapped the glass where I was still holding the file, "You've got an official document signed off by a former President in your hands. What other evidence do I need?"

" _This_ ," I shook the file, "might not be what it says it is."

"You know, admitting it won't drastically change your viewpoint of the world. Everything's going to go about business as usually; the sun will shine, the grass will grow, I'll still be in jail, and you'll still bring criminals to justice. The only difference will be that you'll know who exactly you're defending."

"…What?"

"Well criminal cases are called 'Defendant vs. the United States,' so, since the defense attorney is defending the defendant that means the prosecutor is always defending me."

(His logic does make sense…assuming this conversation made any sense at all to begin with.)

"Actually," he looked away and scratched his head, "I've been meaning to thank you for that."

"For what?"

"For protecting me from criminals like you do. I mean, you're easily the best prosecutor in the country. I really wanted to properly introduce myself to you before, but, well, you're always so busy, and this conversation is always a little weird, no matter how many times I have it."

(I'm definitely _not_ blushing at that. I don't care what America thinks of me…not that he is America, of course.) "You still have yet to prove to me you are who you say you are."

"Search your feelings; you know it to be true."

(…No. We're not doing this.)

"You know if you keep making that face it'll get stuck like that. But awesome movie quotes aside, can you honestly look me in the eyes and tell me I'm who I say I am?"

(Yes, actually, it would be the easiest thing in the world.) So I did as he instructed. I looked him straight in the eye, words on the tip of my tongue…

And something just clicked. Everything he had told me had been the truth, and although I couldn't say how precisely I knew that, I didn't doubt him in the slightest.

Alfred was America, and America was innocent, at least of this crime. It was indeed that simple.

"…Oh."

"Yeah. Are you going to be okay?" America asked.

"Yes, I'll be alright. I'm just going to go for a bit of a walk."

Alfred grinned. "Okay. If you see Korea, tell him I said hi!"

* * *

 **March 17, 3:25 PM. Lincoln Park.**

After wandering around in a daze for a bit, I eventually sat down on a park bench. I vaguely registered someone else sit down beside me.

"America says hi," was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

"How's he doing?" Yong Soo asked.

"Not bad, considering," I turned to stare at him, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you before, you're Alfred's, not mine, and he likes to play his games and do his big reveal."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, he likes doing things big and flashy."

"How very America of him," I looked up as I pondered that thought. Of course it would be very American of him, after all he is America, the very same America I've apparently been protecting this whole time, whether that was my intention or not. Either way, he at least seemed satisfied with my work, and how strange was that?

(Is it all that strange? I became a prosecutor to defend the people, I just never expected the people as a concept to take the form of one man. Just because the faceless masses have one face, is anything any different than before?)

"Edgeworth?" a familiar voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked over to see Wright was in the park as well, standing right in front of me, "What are you doing here?"

"Hm? Oh Wright, you're here."

An elbow to my ribs reminded me I was being rude, proving I was still a little out of it. "Right, Wright this is Yong Soo. Yong Soo, this is Wright. He's been following me around for the past two days," I felt the need to explain.

"Nice to meet you," Yong Soo greeted.

"Likewise. So, what's up Edgeworth? You seem, different."

"Do I?" (I must be very out of it.) "I was just thinking."

"About what?" His eyes lit up in understanding, "Did you find out about, uh-"

"Jones? Yes, I found his real file. I assure you that was no easy task."

"I helped!" Yong Soo felt the need to add on.

"He explained everything to me," I went on, "Alfred, that is, although some of it is quite hard to believe."

"So you know why you think he's innocent?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes I do."

"And?"

"Nothing's changed."

"Huh?"

I looked back up at the sky as I saw Yong Soo reach into his pocket to pull out his ipod. "The sky is still blue, the grass is still growing. Everything is still puttering on as it always has." I chuckled, "I suppose in the end, he was right after all. It didn't really matter."

(I'm just rambling now aren't I? Probably sounding like some sort of insane person, but still. Nothing's changed at all except my perspective, that now I know, but in the end, it isn't really that big of a deal. The fact that America is Alfred or Alfred is America or whatever is completely irrelevant in the very big picture of things.)

"Can you update me a little on your train of thought there?" Wright went on, "You've figured out why Alfred is innocent? Mind sharing with the rest of the class?"

I smirked. If Wright thought I was going to just outright tell him after everything I just had to go through, he was sorely mistaken. "What fun would it be if I spoiled the surprise?"

"You went through all that trouble and you're not going to tell me?"

"I told you at the very beginning: you are perfectly capable of doing your own job," I stood up and handed him the file. He could mull over that until tomorrow, "He _is_ innocent; I have no more doubts about that. You better not screw this one up Wright. I'm feeling a bit generous right now, so I'll give you that to mull over." I stood up and shouted "Yong Soo, I'm leaving," over my shoulder, knowing that no matter how loud his music was, he'd still hear me.

"Ah, wait up Edgey!" he shouted as he ran to catch up with me.

After walking in silence for a few minutes, my companion unsurprisingly broke it, "Is it okay that you just handed the file to him like that?"

"Yes, it's fine. Knowing Wright he won't even realize what it all means anyway, at least not right away."

More silence elapsed before Yong Soo spoke again, "Do you, do you really think he'll be able to get Alfred off?" his eyes darted away, "I mean, I know he's your friend and everything, but he still doesn't seem very reliable and Kiku has a lot to say about him but you know how that is and-"

I paused, Yong Soo stopped besides me, and looked back the way we came. I mulled over the case so far, all the evidence that seemed to point directly at Alfred, the way the media was treating the case, the fact that, despite all that, he was not guilty of any murder.

What this case desperately needed was a turnabout.

"Absolutely. There's no one better."


End file.
